


Waiting

by smarshtastic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-10 21:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11700234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smarshtastic/pseuds/smarshtastic
Summary: McCree deserves to be happy. It looks like Shiga makes him happy, so Gabe should be happy for him.Should be.---Gabe pines for Jesse.





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ap0l1o](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ap0l1o/gifts).



> Written for [ap0l1o](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ap0l1o) ♥ It was really great working with you! 
> 
> You can find my on [tumblr](http://wictorwictor.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/smarshtastic).

Gabe needs a change of scenery. Too many people know where to find him, and if he's going to get any work done without interruption this afternoon, he needs to be where people  _ don't  _ know where to find him. So, he takes his tablet and his comm and a very excellent pair of noise cancelling headphones before he sets out for one of the underused lounge rooms with the intention of getting through these budget requests once and for all. 

The door to the northwest lounge slides open and Gabe steps inside, already half-buried in his thoughts on budget reconciliation. A movement catches the corner of his eye. Gabe snaps his head toward it, only to see McCree and Shiga tangled in each other’s arms on one of the chaise lounges. McCree’s head is tipped back, mouth open, with Shiga stretched over his body, between his legs. His shirt is rucked up, one of Shiga’s hands splayed across his chest as he mouths along McCree’s jaw. 

Gabe feels something sour clench around his heart. 

He clears his throat loudly. McCree and Shiga pick their heads up simultaneously, looking for the source of the interruption. When they spot Gabe, Shiga grins sheepishly and McCree’s face goes a spectacular shade of red. He hurries to sit up, though Shiga makes no immediate effort to get off of McCree’s lap. 

“Sorry, Commander,” Shiga says, even though there's definitely no note of apology in his voice. He rubs a hand through his mussed hair and looks at McCree, flashing him a grin. McCree’s expression looks nothing but horrified - he doesn't return Shiga’s grin. 

“Find another venue,” Gabe says, keeping his voice even. Bile curls in his stomach, for some reason, but Gabe does his best to swallow it down. “Preferably somewhere in private.”

“Yessir,” Shiga says. He pops up off the sofa and offers a hand down to McCree, who takes it as he gets up. McCree tugs his shirt back down and adjusts his pants, avoiding meeting Gabe’s eye. Gabe waves them off, turning away to find a different spot to settle in. 

“Sorry, sir,” McCree’s voice says before the door slides shut. Gabe clenches his hand around his stylus but doesn't look up. 

When their footsteps fade, Gabe sits back in his seat and pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to dispel the sour feeling in his chest. 

He doesn't end up getting very much work done that afternoon. 

=-=-=

Now that he's paying attention, Gabe notices the budding relationship between McCree and Shiga more and more. They stand close to each other, take most of their meals together, pair up on missions. Shiga’s laughter always comes easily, but he's managed to get McCree laughing more too - a bright, open smile that Gabe has only seen rarely, and mostly only ever with Ana or Fareeha. 

It should make Gabe happy that McCree is coming still further out of his shell, has found someone that cares about him, but the insidious twist of jealousy in Gabe’s gut doesn't go away, no matter how much he tries. 

In the years since McCree joined Blackwatch, he's grown in leaps and bounds. McCree is an incredible, capable agent. Gabe would like to think he had a hand in cultivating McCree’s raw talent, but he knows that his efforts would have been for naught if McCree hadn't put in the hard work and dedication on his own. McCree had taken the second chance at making something of himself and run with it; now he's one of Blackwatch’s finest - hell, one of  _ Overwatch’s _ finest. McCree wanted to do it, so he did. Gabe can't take any credit for that. 

So: McCree deserves to be happy. It looks like Shiga makes him happy, so Gabe should be happy for him. 

Should be. 

Gabe shoves aside whatever misgivings he has ( _ Jealousy _ , his mind supplies helpfully, but Gabe stubbornly refuses to acknowledge it) and stays out of it. It's only going to be his problem if either McCree or Shiga make it his problem; as long as neither of them let it interfere with their work, Gabe has nothing to worry about. 

Still, it hurts. It  _ shouldn't  _ hurt, but it does. For all of Gabe’s careful distancing, the feelings he's developed for McCree aren’t exactly related to his capacity as commander of the Blackwatch strike team. The soft spot Gabe had for McCree developed - at some point - into a full-blown, mostly unacknowledged crush. But because Gabe is too steeped in the chain of command, he never acted on it. He never showed favoritism. He would never want to jeopardize McCree’s standing in Blackwatch, or shed doubt on his accomplishment. Just because Gabe sometimes daydreamed about what McCree’s lips would feel like on his own, what his capable hands would feel like on his chest, thighs,  _ other _ parts - it didn't mean he acted on it. If anything, Gabe swallowed down those feelings more intensely, determined to keep McCree at arm’s length. McCree is always going to be  _ McCree _ , never  _ Jesse _ .

Even though it's Jesse’s name that falls from Gabe’s lips when he has time alone and a moment of weakness, when he can't help but take himself into his hand and imagine it's Jesse’s hand instead. 

Gabe puts more and more distance between himself and McCree, for his own sake as well as McCree’s. 

Seeing McCree with Shiga, though, makes it somehow even more difficult to bear. It was bound to happen one of these days; just because Gabe is determined to deprive himself doesn't mean that McCree will too. Gabe has spent a long, long time suppressing his feelings for McCree, burying them deep and largely refusing to acknowledge them. He’s careful not to show any signs - at least he thinks he is. So, given that McCree doesn’t know anything about Gabe’s feelings in the first place, it wouldn’t make sense that he would be aware that he’s hurting them. Why would McCree wait for Gabe to figure out his own shit? McCree should be free to pursue his own happiness. 

Even if it leaves Gabe lonely and aching. 

It's almost worse that McCree is with Shiga - Gabe can't wish any ill on Shiga, who has always been a delightful addition to the Blackwatch squad, even though Gabe wouldn't necessarily admit it out loud. But Shiga is so bright and happy and full of effusive energy that Gabe can almost find it in himself to be happy that McCree found someone who makes him smile and laugh - even though it's not Gabe, even though it makes something twinge in his chest when he sees McCree turn his radiant smile on someone else. 

Gabe thinks he has it under control. He’s surlier than usual for a few days, avoids both McCree and Shiga when he can, and works to bury his feelings as he’s so used to doing. It works, mostly. A couple weeks after first finding McCree and Shiga making out in the lounge, Gabe is running a mission debrief. It's boring, routine stuff - even Gabe would admit that - but he doesn't appreciate when his agents don’t pay attention. Shiga lets out a burst of laughter that makes Gabe stop talking. He turns his gaze on Shiga and, by extension, McCree. Both of their smiles quickly disappear from their faces. 

“Something funny you'd like to share, Shiga?” Gabe asks icily, more harshly than he means to. Shiga straightens in his seat, looking contrite. 

“No sir. Sorry,” he says. McCree bobs his head too. 

“Sorry,” McCree echoes. A muscle works in Gabe’s jaw as he tries (and fails) to let his rational brain rein him back in. 

“Dismissed, then. You're both off this mission.”

McCree opens his mouth to say something, but Shiga gives him a look, and then they're both shuffling out of the briefing room. The door slides shut behind them with a soft  _ whoosh.  _ Gabe turns his attention back to the rest of the strike team. 

“As I was saying…” Gabe says, pressing on so he doesn't dwell on the hurt look on McCree’s face, or the guilt that sits heavy on his chest. 

Later, after the strike team has been deployed and Gabe is back at his desk puzzling through more paperwork, there's a knock on his door. Gabe sets his stylus down and rubs at his temple. 

“Come in,” he says. He regrets it almost immediately; McCree steps into his office, hat held in both hands, looking apologetic. 

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior during the briefing earlier, sir,” McCree says. He’s looking directly at Gabe and it’s a testament to his training that Gabe meets his eye without flinching. The guilty feeling wells up in his chest again. 

“I appreciate your apology,” Gabe says carefully. “Don’t let it happen again.”

McCree nods. “Yes sir,” he says, but he makes no motions to leave, fingers worrying at the brim of his hat. Gabe takes a breath, bracing himself. 

“Something else, McCree?”

“It’s just that - Have I done something wrong, sir?” McCree asks, the words tumbling inelegantly out of his mouth. 

“What gives you that impression?” 

“Well, lately, you’ve just been - it’s not like I ever thought you played favorites, or anything like that, just that, you know, you were always kind to me,” McCree says in a rush. “And lately I’ve felt like maybe I did something wrong since - it’s not like you’ve  _ yelled _ at me or anything just… You’ve felt distant. And I thought it was maybe… I thought I did something wrong.”

Gabe pinches the bridge of his nose, mentally cursing himself. He wasn’t as subtle as he thought he had been. Of course McCree had noticed - Gabe had only been fooling himself. 

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Gabe says. McCree doesn’t look convinced. 

“Then… are you okay, sir?” McCree asks. He’s looking at Gabe so earnestly, so open - it makes something in his chest tighten. He has to look away. 

“I’m fine, McCree,” Gabe says gruffly, lying through his teeth. What is he going to say? That he’s jealous of Shiga? That he’s upset that McCree is happy - with someone who isn’t him? It’s inappropriate. It’s none of his business. He’s missed his chance, anyway. 

“It’s not because of Shiga, is it?” McCree asks. That makes the bottom fall right out of Gabe’s stomach. Carefully, deliberately, Gabe looks back at McCree, not sure what to expect. 

“Excuse me?”

“Because, uh, me and Shiga are - are together,” McCree says. He shifts on the spot. “It’s all above board, sir. We asked, followed protocol. Angie - Doc Z knows about it, just like we’re supposed to, even. And aside from today, we haven’t let it get in the way of anything.”

“You’re allowed to have a relationship, McCree,” Gabe says, even though he can feel something inside him rapidly wilting. McCree searches Gabe’s face - looking for what, Gabe can’t say. 

“Oh,” McCree says after too long of a pause. “Yeah - right. We have the protocol for a reason, I guess.”

“Right,” Gabe says. He breathes out, and looks down at his tablet. Neither of them say anything for a moment, and Gabe wishes he could read minds. “Are you happy, McCree?”

When McCree doesn’t answer immediately, Gabe looks up again. McCree looks surprised - taken aback. He nods slowly. 

“I - yeah. I am,” McCree says. 

“I’m glad,” Gabe finds himself saying. He is, really. If a happily ever after with Jesse McCree isn’t for him, then he’ll take the next best thing: McCree being happy and loved and cared for, full stop. He deserves that, whether Gabe is the one to give it to him or not. 

Gabe can live with that. He’ll have to.

“You deserve to be happy, McCree. Don’t you forget that.”

McCree blinks at him, his eyes rounded and earnest - it’s doing nothing for the ache in Gabe’s chest.

“Thank you, sir,” McCree says, going a little awkward as he shuffles on the spot. Gabe lets a breath out. He really doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. 

“You don’t have to keep standing here,” Gabe says. That seems to jerk McCree back to normal. He crams his hat back on his head and gives Gabe a sloppy salute.

“Yes sir. Thank you.”

McCree leaves and the door slides shut behind him. Gabe counts to ten, slowly, then puts his head down on his desk. It feels like a loss, even though it shouldn’t. 

=-=-=

It doesn’t feel better, though, months later when whatever it was that McCree and Shiga had seems to come to an end. They’re still on good terms, apparently, but Gabe can’t help but notice the way McCree spends more time by himself. He’s not exactly moping, but he isn’t laughing as easily as he had been. 

In a way, Gabe misses it. 

Gabe and McCree are working late one night, side by side as they pore over blueprints and movement reports. McCree sighs heavily for the fifth time in seven minutes, and Gabe has to say something. 

“Everything okay, McCree?” he asks. McCree looks surprised, then embarrassed. 

“Yeah - fine. I’m fine,” McCree says. 

“I heard about you and Shiga,” Gabe says. He regrets it almost immediately: McCree grimaces and looks away. 

“You heard about that, huh?”

“Sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”

“No - it’s fine. I appreciate it,” McCree says, still looking embarrassed. He rubs the back of his neck. “Dunno what I was thinking, really.”

“What? You’re allowed to have something good in your life,” Gabe says.

“Yeah, well. Maybe this wasn’t the thing,” McCree says. “I reckon we’re better friends than lovers.”

“You’ll find the right person,” Gabe says. McCree meets his eye and Gabe has to swallow the little  _ oh _ that rises in his throat. He can’t let himself hope. He’ll only get hurt. 

“You think so?”

“I do,” Gabe says. McCree smiles lopsidedly, softly, an incomprehensible look coming into his expression. It’s not a look that Gabe’s seen before - least of all directed at him. The spark of hope that had ignited in his chest flares brighter, in spite of Gabe’s half-hearted effort to snuff it out. 

“Well,” McCree says softly, ducking his head and looking down at the blueprints spread out on the table. “I guess I got something to look forward to.”


End file.
